


I was gonna go easy on you not to hurt your feelings

by iceteawithoutice



Category: Eminem (Musician), Machine Gun Kelly (Musician)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Drug Use, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Fuck Buddies to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, but they'll figure it out, fuck buddies, they're both stupid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:28:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22505578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iceteawithoutice/pseuds/iceteawithoutice
Summary: They've been fucking for some time now, both secretly promising themselves they'd never let it evolve into anything more. But what happens when they start catching feelings ?(drama, drama, and then some more drama)
Relationships: Colson Baker | Machine Gun Kelly/Eminem
Comments: 35
Kudos: 130





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations at the end

“You falling asleep already?”

“No way, _habib_ …” he muttered under his breath distantly as his eyelids fell heavy and breathing became deeper.

Em poked him in the ribs. “Hey.”

He got a muffled groan as a response.

He poked again, this time harder. “ _Hey_. If you’re gonna sleep here at least get off me.”

Kelly groaned again, this time raising his head slowly from the crook of Em’s neck. Their faces now only a couple of inches apart, Kelly was barely able to keep himself from falling back down, yet still staring the other in the eye with – what he hoped would come off as – a deep feeling of betrayal.

Em only stared back.

The younger was the first to give up, too tired to hold his upper body on his arms alone. He twisted and collapsed on the mattress beside the older, exhaling roughly at the impact. His eyes were closed as soon as his head hit the pillow.

“Fine, fine, you win,” he slurred.

He didn’t get a response. He only felt the mattress move and the presence of another person was gone. Soon, the distant sound of the shower let him know where Em had gone. Of course – Em hated the feeling of stickiness and filth after sex. He also hated being completely naked for too long and any kind of physical contact that wasn’t strictly sexual. At least that’s what Kelly’s experience with the older rapper was.

Kelly reached for the duvet, the cold sheets comfortable against his bare skin. He had to admit the drying cum stains on his chest were a bit gross, but there was nothing that could drag him out of that bed now.

He just nestled himself comfortably and tried to lose himself in the white noise of the shower.

\--

Kelly awoke in the dark. His eyes opened quietly and without him even wanting them to. When he tried lulling himself back to sleep before it was too late, he was only met with frustrating restlessness. He sighed in defeat.

Blindly reaching his long arm onto the floor in search of any kind of clothing, he found what he presumed to be his sweatpants. He slowly got out of bed, stumbling into both pant legs (somehow at once) and scrunched his face at the soreness of his ass.

He almost broke a lamp on the nightstand before finding his phone, hidden under an open pack of condoms.

He staggered out of the bedroom when he noticed a dim light coming from the kitchen. Kelly checked the time on his phone – 3:42am – and tiptoed down the hallway.

Em sat on one of the stools at the bar, back to Kelly. He was nervously tapping a pencil on the notebook in front of him with his left hand and referencing a slow drumbeat against the counter with the fingers of his right one. In front of him was a glass of ice and a transparent liquid, which could only be water, given the bar he sat as was completely empty of any kind of alcohol bottles.

Kelly hesitated at the doorway. The rapper seemed to be in his element and he really didn’t want to disturb him. But he was also unbearably thirsty.

“Aren’t you supposed to get up at dawn, grandpa?” he made a poor attempt at a joke, only now realizing that his brain wasn’t even 1% functional yet.

The remark made Em turn around. He was wearing his thin-rimmed glasses and an unbuttoned shirt and just the tiniest hint of surprise on his face. The whole scene looked incredibly unreal and Kelly wondered, just for a moment, if he was dreaming. But the slightest indication of the emotion quickly wiped away and Em turned his attention back to the notebook.

“What are you still doing here?” he demanded, not turning to look at Kelly when he spoke to him.

Right. He would usually be gone by now. The tiredness had gotten the best of him.

“Well I was gonna get something to drink but I guess I’d rather just take that delicious-looking invisible bottle of air you got there.” He pointed at the sad-looking bar with both his arms to emphasize the sarcasm as he moved around the bar counter to make sure there was really not a drop of liquor to be found.

“Seriously, what are you, Amish?” he mumbled, not expecting Em to even be paying attention.

“You’ll have to excuse me for wanting to live past fifty,” Em said distantly. He put the pencil down to take a sip of his water, still not even glancing at Kelly.

Kelly decided to ignore the comment and pass on the opportunity to make another old guy joke. Instead, he grabbed a kitchen rag and tossed it over his shoulder, impersonating a – very believable – bartender.

“What’ll ya have, good sir?” he smirked, desperate for any kind of reaction from the other.

When Em only let him know that he had heard him with a quick flash of his eyes and immediately got back to ignoring him, Kelly slumped his shoulders. Letting the rag fall off his shoulder to the floor, he propped on his elbows and rested his own face in his hands.

“What are you writing that’s so important at 3 am?” Kelly leaned forward.

That made Em exhale and close the notebook and set it aside. “You should go.”

Kelly retreated, trying hard not to show any confusion or hurt, while Em took another long sip. “I guess I should.”

This wasn’t anything new. If anything, it was strange that he had stayed this long. That’s just how they worked – one of them texted, they fucked, and they went their own paths. They haven’t ever even kissed or anything intimate like that. Sometimes they’d breathe into each other’s mouths aggressively during sex, or Em would run his hands up and down Kelly’s sides, fingertips tracing the colorful tattoos, which the younger appreciated more than he’d ever admit. But that's as far as they'd ever go. 

Kelly knew he needed more closeness, more reassurance from the other man, but he was too scared to ask or take the first step. And he’d rather pull out his own nails than try to mention any of his insecurities to Em.

“Right. ‘Cause I have that, um- that interview at noon. And it’s live TV, so probably shouldn’t show up looking like this,” he murmured absently and already began to gather his clothes that had been thrown all over the apartment the night before.

“Right,” he heard the older man grumble when Kelly was almost out the door.

\--

As soon as he slammed his apartment door closed, he realized that all sense of tiredness had left him.

“Fuck…” he sighed to himself, plopping down on the couch and turning the TV on. Forgetting it was only four-something in the morning, he was almost surprised at the obscene sounds of porn coming from the television.

He wasn’t really in the mood to jerk off, but he left it on, just observing the act.

“See, even they hold each other when they fuck,” he said quietly let his gaze linger for only a moment before fishing his phone out of his hoodie pocket and opening the monotone chat he had with Em. He started typing.

_you free this wknd ?_

Kelly hit send before he could even think it through and immediately threw his phone on the couch beside him, not even wanting to look at it. How did he keep disappointing himself again and again?

As he rolled a thin blunt, he eyed the second to last door in the dimly lit hallway. It was the only one that was closed, decorated with colorful stickers and big block letters, spelling out _Casie_. His fingers stopped for a moment and he reached for the remote, turning down the volume.

He pulled his legs up to the couch and leaned back with a deep sigh, the unlit blunt resting between his lips. He didn’t move for another hour, when sleep finally crept up to him.

\--

Scribbling out the same verse for the third time, Em almost broke the cheap pencil in half. The rage took over him in a second and he found himself scrunching and tearing the yellow paper in pieces.

He had to get away from everything. He was stuck and the only solution was to get away from everything.

He’d been sitting in the same chair for over five hours, struggling with the same verse. Usually, the words would come to him on their own, flowing like a stream from his heart, and he’d just have to shape them, give them character and a rhythm. But now it felt like the words were his enemy, trying to work against him and slow him down.

Em put his head in his hands, digging fingers into his scalp. God, he’d give anything for a drink or a hit right now.

He chased those thoughts away with a splash of cold water in his face and down his neck.

The problem was that his head was full to the brim with thoughts. They were making his mind race night and day, yet too blurry for him to make anything of it.

He threw a quick glance at his phone to just check the time and noticed a notification for a new text message from Kelly. The one constant in his distorted thoughts.

Kelly was always on the older rapper’s mind. It’s like his brain was trying to somehow connect anything that happened in Em’s life to the blonde, his face burned into the backs of his eyelids.

Em never expected for the younger one to take up such a big part of his life. He wasn’t even sure if he _liked_ Kelly.

He obviously found him attractive – that was obvious to the man in question himself. But could Em ever see himself in a… _relationship_ with someone like that? Neither of them was bothered by the age difference, there was a different kind of distance between them. They hardly ever spoke (not that Em tried to do anything about that) and barely knew random trivia about each other, but nothing real.

Despite all that, Em was still uncontrollably drawn to Kelly. He found himself relaxed in his presence, like he could drop the act just a little, if only for the two minutes they’d spend together after finishing. If he could only get him to just _stay_ -

No. This needed to stop. There was absolutely no room for any drama in Em’s life, and Kelly always seemed to bring just that.

They both had a life, a career, _children_. He wondered what Hailie would have to say about the whole situation, but quickly shook the thought out, too embarrassed to even imagine it.

He read Kelly’s text and quickly had to stop himself before his dumb fingers could type anything affirmative. If he really wanted to get this sorted out, meeting up with Kelly so soon would be the worse way to go about it. They both needed some time apart.

_can’t, Hailie’s in town_

It didn’t even matter if it was true or not. He hit send.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> habib - lover, sweetheart (arabic)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations once again at the end

“-joined by Machine Gun Kelly! MGK, thank you so much for being here today.”

“Hi, how you doing.”

“Well, first off, you’ve got a whole new EP coming soon-”

\--

As soon as the fake vintage neon ‘on air’ sign shut off and the cameras were off him, Kelly jumped on his feet and bolted out the door down the gray hallway. He could hear someone call out his stage name after him, but ignored the voice.

He made a sharp turn at the white door with the toilet sign on it and pushed on it, entering a small, dimly-lit restroom.

Kelly exhaled into the empty room. He stood in front of the mirror with his hands leaning on the sink and dropped his head, not wanting to look at his own reflection. He didn't really want to look at anything in particular, so he squeezed his eyes shut.

That was a bad interview. That was possibly the worst interview he’d ever had, succeeding the one time he thought the mixture of whole milk and red wine was a good pre-filming drink and then proceeded to puke all over himself and the set as soon as the interviewer welcomed him. Well, this one was worse.

He didn’t even want to think about the lectures he’d get from his management and the mocking from the internet and- Why did he care about this? He’s never cared about any of this.

Kelly took a deep breath. The combinations of the fucked up sleep schedule, pure caffeine on an empty stomach, and all the stress surrounding personal life were not mixing well. His nerves were all over the place and he needed a distraction.

As if on cue, his phone chirped at the exact moment the thought crossed his mind.

It was almost embarrassing how hastily he reached into his back pocket, a spark of hope igniting in his heart and making his hands tremble.

But the hope died down just as soon as it had appeared - it was just a Twitter notification. No new messages.

He wasn’t even sure what he was expecting at this point. Like, a full-blown love confession from a dude he fucked a few times a week? How about a marriage proposal?

The last text Em had sent him wasn’t even worthy of a response. It was a blatant lie that the rapper had used as an excuse before, and Kelly couldn’t help but to feel offended by how little effort the other put into the reason for not seeing him.

“ _Tuz,_ ” he muttered to himself and put on his best ‘shit don’t faze me’ face he could muster, even if it was only for the empty restroom.

Wanting to create a diversion before his fingers could possibly type any kind of pathetic message on their own, he searched for his daughter’s contact in his phone and tapped the call icon.

Casie was the only person he could truly always rely on. They had an unspoken agreement that they would be there for each other no matter what, and one could call the other and vent without the obligation to explain anything.

Only when the phone rang for a third time Kelly remembered that the girl was probably still at school. He checked his watch nervously and almost hung up, just as the rings stopped and Casie’s voice echoed from his phone.

“…–my dad. Hi dad!” she chirped, talking around some kind of food in her mouth.

Kelly smiled to himself. Despite the fact that his daughter was staying with him at the time, he hadn’t talked to her in days, and hadn’t seen her for almost a week. They somehow kept missing each other – he got home late at night and she would leave early in the morning. He’d missed her voice.

“Hey baby,” he was sure she could hear the ridiculous smile on his lips. “School out already?”

“School sadly still in, I just have a ten minute break. What’s up?”

He could hear a crinkle of a plastic bag in the background and the crunch of Casie probably snacking on some chips.

“Nothing much. Just finished some shitshow interview. I recommend you don’t watch it if you appreciate your brain cells.” Kelly started pacing steadily around the empty room.

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. Wanna talk about it?”

Kelly closed his eyes and bit his tongue. “Not really,” he answered quietly. “What’s new with you?”

Casie thought for a second, munching on the chips silently. “I don’t know, actually. There’s a rumor we’re getting new basketballs this week and...- Oh! I wanted to ask you if it’s okay if I sleep over at my friend Jamie’s tonight?”

“...That a male Jamie or a female Jamie?”

“Female.” Casie giggled. “But I should warn you – she has a 2-year-old brother,” she added with a serious voice.

“Then I’m afraid there’s absolutely no way I can let you go,” Kelly joked and Casie snickered at his lame attempt.

“Her mom’s picking us up from school, but I’ll text you the address, just in case.”

“This mom… She the young, hot, single one?”

Kelly could practically _hear_ the eye roll.

“I don’t think I’ve ever said _‘hot’_. Though some do believe she’s this generation’s Pamela Anderson... Okay, well, gotta go!”

“Wait, wait, wait, tell me more about this Pamela Anderson situati-”

“Bye, dad!”

Kelly dropped the phone from his ear to stare at the ‘call ended’ writing on the screen for a couple of moments. The corners of his lips curved upwards in a smile against his own will.

He really was more than happy to see Casie hanging out with her friends, but a sleepover just meant more time away from her. A quick thought flashed through his mind - the idea that his daughter was avoiding him on purpose, that he’d gotten too much for her and she didn't want to deal with his shit anymore. But he pushed it away, deeming it ridiculous and stupid. As soon as they both had some free time, he’d take her out, like to the skate park or something. She’d appreciate that.

His phone vibrated in his hand and this time he didn’t even allow himself to get his hopes up.

It was Casie, sending him the promised location of her friend’s house. She also sent him a gif of a dog pissing on a sidewalk, which got a chuckle out of him. He quickly typed a response.

_have fun baby :)_

\--

The next week and two days went by in a blur. A gritty, disgusting, barf-filled blur.

The silver lining was that Kelly found some time to hang out with Casie – they had gone to all the fast food places in the area to compare the quality of their chicken nuggets and Kelly was helping her write a stupid rap song about RNA for her biology class.

But his daughter was also extremely busy. This Jamie girl was apparently her new best friend – she was going to her house every day and somehow went to five sleepovers in just four days.

When Casie was out, Kelly didn’t really know what to do with himself. He was alone at his apartment, his EP was finished and ready for the awaited release in a couple of days, Em had gone completely radio silent. More often than not, Kelly would find himself in the company of a whichever liquor bottle he happened to randomly pick at the closest convenience store.

This one night was particularly lonely. Starting with two cans of cheap beer (and two lazily rolled blunts), he quickly moved on to a brand new bottle of white rum, swinging from it until his brain felt fuzzy.

He was sat on his couch, the TV on, but the volume turned down. The bottle was nestled in his lap, nearly half-empty. His thoughts were racing, but somehow never landed on anything - until they did.

Kelly eyed his phone, which was lying forgotten next to him, partially covered by a blanket. He wondered how long it's been from the time he'd promised himself he wouldn't spend another minute mulling over the Em situation. With a defeated sigh, he reached for the phone and unlocked it.

He stared at the last message the rapper had sent him. He stared and stared, until his eyes started to hurt.

He wondered what Em was doing at that moment. He was probably running. That dude was always running – a habit that Kelly was having a hard time understanding and would love to tease the older about any chance he got. Or maybe he was at home, having some friends over, drinking and laughing and being all happy. Kelly knew the big scary Eminem had a softer side, one that wasn’t afraid to joke and smile. He was just upset he hadn't had a chance to see it in person yet.

Whatever Em was doing, it was certainly better than being cooped up on the couch in an empty apartment, drinking in solitude. It made Kelly angry, that the other could relax and have a good time, unfazed by the painful silence between them.

It made the blonde want to march up to his place and punch him right between the eyes. And if he weren't secretly too petty to make the first move, he probably would have.

“You know what, fuck you,” he spat at his phone. “I don’t need this shit.”

He stood up swiftly from the couch, determined, yet immediately regretted it. The room spun around him and he had to try his best to remain standing on both his feet.

He grabbed his jacket on the way out the door.

\--

The club was piercingly loud and the flashing lights made Kelly dizzy.

He was nursing his fourth drink of the night, making gentle movements with his wrist to keep the liquid swirling. Leaning against a wall in the very back of the room, he was watching the rough club scene unravel before his eyes.

The dancefloor was a wild mess. Kelly couldn’t even tell individual people apart, it was all just a big, sweaty blob, moving in the rhythm of the music… sort of.

He had been standing in the same spot ever since he got there, only ever moving to the bar when his drink needed freshening. It was kind of lame, just standing there all alone, but he didn’t feel like dancing and pretending to be happy. And he certainly didn’t feel like going back home.

A smooth voice in his left ear pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Why the long face, gloomy?”

It almost made Kelly jump and he instinctively turned his head to look at the source of the voice. It was a girl, probably in her early twenties. Her hair was dyed neon pink and Kelly could barely see her eyes under the heavy silver glittery eye makeup. She was wearing a revealing white leotard that complimented her slight curves in just the right places. Despite obvious appeal, he had to honestly take a second to wonder how she wasn’t cold.

One of the girl’s hands gently brushed against Kelly's arm, sending chills up his neck. Her entire body was facing towards him, a leg even stretching forward to touch his own. It made Kelly run his gaze up and down her figure, almost on instinct.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he purred, just loud enough for her to hear over the powerful bass.

The comment made the girl smile. Her eyes trailed down to Kelly’s mouth, lingered there for a moment, before looking up again. “You wanna dance?”

Kelly didn’t answer, just set down his drink on the nearest surface, and lead the girl towards the giant sea of partying people.

His mind was comfortably fuzzy and buzzy, everything seemed soft and welcoming, despite the harsh lighting and the stench of sweat in the air.

He didn’t even have to do anything, the girl was moving around him on her own, letting the beat guide her body. She was touching him all over, grinding on him, while he just stood there and subtly swayed his hips.

They danced for a couple of minutes, and Kelly was just getting into it, when there was suddenly a strong hand on his shoulder, pulling him at least three feet backwards.

“Yo, what the fuck is this shit?!” he heard from behind him. He spun around in surprise and came face-to-face with a huge dude sporting an unforgiving glare.

He was the same height as Kelly (which normal people would find nothing but straight up intimidating) and bulky like a gorilla. His eyes were mad and filled with rage, flashing back and forth between Kelly and the pink-haired girl.

“Baby, I can-” the girl started.

“Shut your ass up, bitch!” he spat in her direction, before turning to Kelly. “Who the fuck are you?!”

The sheer arrogance made Kelly’s blood boil.

“Who am I?!” He shook the man’s off and squared his shoulders, trying to make himself look even taller. “I’m just a guy who came to a fucking club to have a fun night and didn’t sign up for being clowned on by some pussy-ass bitch-boy.”

He didn’t even know what he was saying, the alcohol and the absurdity of the situation making the words fly out before he could even register them.

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before sticking your 3-inch dick in my girl’s ass crack, huh?!”

“Or maybe you should keep your girl in check if you’re so bothered by her dancing with other dudes.”

The other guy stepped closer, his entire body shaking in anger. He was clutching his fists by his sides so hard he could probably draw blood. Kelly was surprised to see no foam coming out his mouth. He looked absolutely rabid.

The girls stepped in now, making a physical barricade between the two. “Babe, please, just let this go…”

“Stay out of this, _slut_!” Her boyfriend didn’t tear his eyes away from Kelly’s.

The remark made the girl fall silent and she sheepishly retreated.

Kelly tried his best to hold it together, to not come off as a mental case and completely lose his temper, but this guy was making it too hard. So the second the other started to raise his hand, Kelly lunged forwards, wanting to be the first to make a move.

He brought his fist up with incredible speed, relative to how sluggish he had felt only a minute ago. His right was launched at the guy’s head, while the left came up to protect his own face. The moment his fist connected with the other’s mug, he could feel bones crunching. It made him wonder if it was his own hand or the guy’s cheekbone. The guy stumbled backwards, hand coming up to touch his cheek in awe, like he couldn’t even believe the scrawny person in front of him would have the nerve to throw a punch.

The said punch unfortunately wasn’t strong enough to scare him away, only making him angrier. The surprise on his face got swept away by frightening determination and he was quickly closing the distance between them with two long strides. The second he unleashed a string of precise punches, one more powerful than the other, Kelly knew he was done for. He could barely even hold his arms up in an attempt to protect himself. He got hit in the ear, the jaw, the forearm and the eye. He was thrown around left and right like a ragdoll, barely even registering what was going on.

And then the punches stopped. He looked up, making out a blurry outline of a bouncer tearing the rabid guy away from Kelly. When he glanced around, he realized that he hadn't even noticed the group of people standing around the duo, clearly entertained by the fight.

Kelly’s head was buzzing, this time in a bad way. He felt disorientated, barely even knowing which way was forwards. He could hear loud thumping in his ears, but couldn’t figure out if it was the music’s beat or his own blood flow.

A blob of neon pink appeared in front of him, speaking in muffled words. “Oh my god, are you okay? I’m so sorry!”

He couldn’t even gather up a cohesive response, just muttered something unintelligible and tried to push past the blob.

“Wait, you’re bleeding! Do you need help?”

_Bleeding?_ His hand came up to touch at his face – big mistake. The simple ghost touch shot another string of pain right through his skull. He had never quite felt all of his teeth in this way before. But when he brought his finger up to his eyes to examine it, there was truly blood on it. Interesting.

It also seemed like none of his fingers were broken.

He kept pushing through the crowd, the blob of pink forgotten somewhere in the background. Making his way back to the rear of the room, he blindly opened a door he remembered being the restroom.

The lighting was nauseatingly bright and did nothing to make him not look like a junkie who hasn't slept in months (which honestly wasn't even that far from the truth), but helped him in inspecting the damage nontheless. His eye was already beginning to swell, the entire area disturbingly reddish. He was bleeding from his ear and when he opened his mouth, he realized that there was blood there also. That would certainly explain the disgusting metallic taste that wouldn’t go away.

" _Scheiße_ ," he whispered out loud.

It was just now beginning to _really_ hurt, the dull, yet piercing pain spreading from the inside of his cheek throughout his entire head.

For some reason, he decided that it was now the perfect time to take a photo, grinning stupidly in the front camera of his phone and showing off the blood-stained teeth.

The lighting was embarrassingly bad, but he decided to keep the photo and even send it to the first contact that came to mind – Em.

His wet fingers struggled to type the message and he had to pause every now and then to even make out the individual letters.

_is this a look ornah, lemme kno_

_ir rly fycking huerts tho_

_think ill bleedoutsoon_

_not thaet you give a shit_

_fuck you_

_mothwrfyckerr_

_fuck yiu_

A milisecond after hitting send, he threw his phone at the wall as hard as he could.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tuz - whatever, i don't care (arabic)  
> scheiße - shit (german)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning, warning! offensive language is used in this one, be warned! (stuff like c**t and a** and p**sy and other bad bad words)
> 
> \--  
> hi!  
> i feel like i cannot post this without addressing that i haven't updated in 2+ months.. i am so so sorry my dudes, life seems to always get in the way, somehow. i hope you can find it in your heart to forgive my lazy ass and enjoy this chapter !! (if you came back to read this after 2 months, you're appreciated and ily, thanks<3)  
> also yeah a pandemic started in the meantime, i really hope everyone is staying safe :)
> 
> \--  
> also also apparently colson **hates** it when people call him kelly ? lmao that's kinda funny ngl
> 
> \--  
> translations have always been and will always be at the end~

The wooden door shook with each powerful _bang_ , the hinges squeaking weakly.

Those were the last three in a string of impatient _bangs_ , one more potent than the other. Yet still no lights were turning on, no concerned eyes peeked through the peephole, no intruder-repellent metal bats clattered on the wooden floor – there was no sign of any life in the house at all.

“I know you’re in there Kelly, open up!” Em roared, not spending a second to care about his yelling perhaps upsetting some neighbours.

“Fucking idiot…” he muttered under his breath after shifting his weight from one leg to the other for the umpteenth time. He was fuming with anger, his fists clenched by his sides, entire body shaking in waves. He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there, staring at the closed front door and trying to force it open with the sheer power of his rage alone.

The early rays of the morning sun were gentle on the mahogany door, warming the back of Em’s neck ever so slightly. It was pissing him off.

Suddenly, the key began to hesitantly turn in the lock, slow at first, then gradually gaining on confidence and speeding up. The lock seemed to keep rotating and spinning – since when did it take like half an hour to unlock a simple door?

Finally, the ruthless door began to creek open, the tender morning sunlight illuminating a very disoriented face, strands of fair hair plastered to the sweaty forehead.

Kelly’s clothes were speckled with dried blood stains, and so was his bruised-like-a-peach face, which was furrowed with confusion, and probably – if the wounds were anything to go by – with pain. He was holding a bag of frozen carrots to his swollen eye and discolored cheek. His expression was muddled, mouth agape and eyes flicking from Em’s face to a distant spot somewhere behind the newcomer’s shoulder.

“Um, what the f-” he slowly started, having regained the ability to form words, but was just as swiftly cut off by a jittery Em pushing past him inside the house.

“You’re unbelievable.” He turned to face Kelly, who was still hovering at the door, seemingly unsure what to do. “You’re fucking unbelievable.”

Em stuffed his clenched fists deep inside the pockets of his jacket, before tearing them out again promptly.

“I mean, I seriously can’t believe this shit.”

“Yeah, you said.” Kelly’s voice was hoarse and surprisingly calm. He sounded exhausted. Closing the front door softly, he began to unsurely approach Em, who was already standing in the middle of the living room, back to Kelly.

Em spun on his heel, bringing his thumb up to his lips to nibble at the nail. He paced nervously, his stomach hot with anger and heart thumping against his ribcage with beats per second. Kelly just watched, silent.

After about five consecutive circles around the musician’s living room, Em finally stopped his pacing. He closed his eyes for a second, recollecting his thoughts. Feet shifting decisively, he approached Kelly. He stopped about a foot away from him, eyes darting quickly over the other’s face and observing the injuries.

The contusions weren’t that bad yet, but they were starting to come in. The area around Kelly’s left eye, where he was still clutching the frozen carrots, was pinkish and swollen. His eyes were glazed and distant.

Em’s gaze fell down to Kelly’s mouth. His lips were chapped and smeared with dried blood, the lower one still bleeding a little bit. His teeth were probably knocked into it when the punch landed.

Suddenly, he realized that his hand was already on its way to touch and prod at the wounded lip. He stopped himself at the last second, quickly grabbing the hand that Kelly was holding the carrots in to hide his original intent. He tossed the bag on a nearby cupboard and supported Kelly’s hand with both of his to take a closer look at it.

He could feel Kelly’s shaky breath on his cheek.

His knuckles were reddened, the skin peeling in a revolting way. But the palm was soft and strangely familiar – although he was sure he’d never touched this part of Kelly before – and Em felt the frustration in his stomach slowly melt away. It felt weird to just hold his hand without saying anything, strangely intimate. He wondered – if he brought Kelly’s fingers to his nose, would he be able to smell the guitar strings?

Kelly swallowed hard. “ _Madha tafiel?_ ” he whispered.

Em cleared his throat promptly. Now that Kelly had spoken first, he had to say something as well.

“You clench your fist wrong when you punch,” he murmured, still studying the hand. “You can’t put enough strength in it if you twist it like that. Probably also why you got beat up that bad.”

Kelly didn’t say a word, only letting unsteady breaths out of his mouth. Em didn’t dare look up at him.

“Either that or the guy was twice your size.”

For whatever reason, that seemed to snap Kelly out of the trance and he quickly pulled his hand back, like he’d been burned. His eyebrows furrowed together and his entire body posture shifted – loose shoulders tensed up, chin raising itself to make him appear taller.

“Why would you say that? You weren’t there - you don’t know what it looked like! Are you _assuming_ that just because-”

“Woah, relax," Em tried calmly. "I’m not assuming anything.”

Em pulled back as well, taking a step backwards and blinking a few times to clear his head. “I’m just saying, you look like he gave it to you good. You’re lucky your nose isn’t broken.”

He could almost feel the wave of increasing annoyance radiating from Kelly, his stare becoming cold and intense.

“No, I don’t think you have the right to come here- to come to my house in the middle of the night and tell me what a pussy I am for having my face smashed in.”

Kelly’s defensive tone began to stir the anger in Em’s stomach again. He really didn’t want to fight right now, but the words just flew out of his mouth.

“ _I_ don’t have the right? I have _every_ right, you cunt! I have every fucking right after you text me that shit at 3 in the morning, looking like you just had a concussion on a concussion!”

Kelly didn’t respond at first, his glare only getting icier. Em had actually never seen that kind of look on his face – a dangerous mix of fatigue, pain, and fury. Nevertheless, he spat out another insult under his breath, wanting even more impact: “Ignorant fucker.”

“Get out.”

“Get out.” Kelly’s voice was low and steady. “ _Verschwinde aus meinen Augen, Schlampe.”_

The younger had a habit of using foreign phrases when he really wanted to get his point across. This was actually dumb as fuck, given that Em couldn’t understand a word he was saying. He could try to guess the meaning from the tone and the context, but it was so frustrating for him – he knew Kelly liked to call him slurs (either when he was just fucking around, or for real). It was just upsetting when he knew he was being insulted, yet couldn’t throw back a spiteful answer because he wasn’t even sure what it was about. If Em could travel back in time, he’d kick kid-version Kelly in the balls, simply because he must have been an asshole.

“Listen to me, alright?! You are in no fucking place to be telling me off. Especially when you’re acting like a child. Like a spoiled, bratty _child_ who hasn’t gotten the taste of the _real_ world yet and doesn’t know that not everyone will immediately fall at his feet and praise him for just existing. _Wake up, man!_ ”

Kelly scoffed dismissively and – thankfully, because it was starting to freak Em out a little bit – tore his intense glare away from the older.

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite!” He shook his head and Em couldn’t help but notice the shine of his silver dangle earring that swung in every direction with Kelly’s movement. He _really_ didn’t want to fight right now – but the damage was done.

“You act like you’re all high and mighty, when you’re really just a sad little fucker who got too famous and popular for his own good. You’re _fucked in the head_ , Marshall!”

Em twitched at the sudden use of his name, but didn’t interrupt.

“You’ve got this twisted sense of your own distorted reality where you’re the all-knowing god and everyone else is just tiny stupid ants to you. I _know_ I’m younger and I’m less experienced and maybe I’ll never be as successful as you, but at least I’ll never become _this_!” Kelly twisted his mouth in disgust as he hissed the last word, looking Em up and down with his piercing eyes.

Something told Em that he had two options in that moment. He could either retaliate and probably spit out about ten thousand brutal things that were already forming in the back of his mind and he didn’t even mean, destroying whatever abnormal form of a relationship they were in, or he could swallow his pride and let Kelly have this one.

He tried his best to crush the hot anger in his stomach and decided to sit down on Kelly’s sofa. He cradled his head in his hands – it seemed so heavy, somehow. Kelly only watched in confusion.

“Why are we even fighting right now? I just came here to-” _Came here to what, Marshall? Finish that sentence._

He groaned. “It’s way too early for this shit.”

Em slid his hands down his face, covering his mouth and nose. “And I know for a fact you haven’t slept or eaten in at least 18 hours.”

For a while, it appeared like Kelly was trying to decide between sucker punching Em with all his strength or maybe getting the bat to break his spine, before his barely-functioning, alcohol-filled brain finally gave up and he just collapsed on the sofa next to Em in defeat. He exhaled slowly, like he was letting all his frustration go by just breathing.

“How did you come up with a number that specific?”

He asked like he didn’t really expect an answer and Em didn’t give him one. The room was eerily quiet now, the walls seemingly still vibrating with their angry yelling. The silence gave Em a chance to reflect on what the hell just happened. Why did he get so upset? Why did he drive triple the speed limit on his way here? _Why was he so worried to begin with?_

They’d been sitting on the couch for a while, the room heavy with unspoken words. Finally, Kelly sighed and lifted his head.

“Music?”

Em nodded vaguely and soon a soft, mellow tune started playing from the sound system. Kelly could probably see the face Em made at the choice, when he smiled and said: “Didn’t really feel like upbeat rock would be appropriate.”

Em couldn’t stop the corners of his lips from twisting up at the thought. He stood up, gesturing to the other to join him. Kelly’s brows knotted together in confusion, but he stood up nonetheless.

Their hands each found a place on the other’s body and they slowly swung to the melody of the song.

Em didn’t think about the smell of Kelly’s cologne filling his nose. He didn’t think about the closeness of his warm body, the heat radiating from one torso to another. When he gathered up strength to look at the other’s face, he definitely didn’t think about how easy it would be to just lean in and press their lips- He really didn't.

Kelly’s eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed the tiniest bit. Other than that, his face was relaxed. Em skimmed the heavy bags under his eyes that made him look so much older and so much more worn-out. He often forgot how much the younger rapper had been through, how much he had to endure on his own. There was a strange feeling in his chest, moving deeper into his body and clutching at his throat. While there was a strangely pleasant feeling around the sensation, it almost made him choke.

Probably purely subconsciously, Em clutched Kelly’s bloody shirt a little tighter. The younger must have felt it, as his face shortly found its home in the crook of Em’s neck, the soft strands of fair hair brushing Em’s jaw.

The tune of the song long forgotten, the only thing Em could hear was his own thumping heartbeat and the blood rushing through his ears.

“ _Limadha tafeal hdha by?_ ” came a small murmur from the blonde.

“You know I hate it when you do that,” Em had to take a second to process just how soft the voice that came out of his own mouth was. He had to clear his throat.

Kelly’s body shook with a giggle and he raised his head to face Em. Smiling from ear to ear, he looked him straight in the eye.

“Do what?”

And right in that moment, something in Em shifted. As the sun finally began to come up and its shine lit up Kelly’s bright hair – somehow making him look divine despite him still wearing his ridiculous goofy smile – he knew everything was going to change. Em swallowed hard.

“ _Ich mag dich ganz doll,_ ” Kelly whispered against his lips.

And Em didn’t say anything.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Madha tafiel? - what are you doing? (arabic)  
> Verschwinde aus meinen Augen, Schlampe. - get out of my sight, bitch. (german)  
> Limadha tafeal hdha by? - why are you doing this to me? (arabic)  
> Ich mag dich ganz doll. - i like you very much. (german)


End file.
